Henry's House


They stood in front of the door, Hook on one side of her, Lizzie on the other side of him, clutching his hook with her tiny fist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You don't need to be nervous, love." He placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. The touch surprised her. He hadn't touched her, not properly, since that dance. It didn't make her flinch away, but she still adopted her usual manner of hostility as she said, "I'm not nervous."

"Oh, aye?"

She turned to him, to see him raise his eyebrows at her, and promptly turned back to the front door. She eyed it with a dry mouth and wide eyes. It was painted off-white, but the colour was less than friendly. It seemed to loom over her.

Henry's house. The thought of entering his house was so strange to her, it made her mouth go dry. But there was no way to get out of it; he'd invited her for dinner almost a week ago. The time to pull out had passed.

She extended a hand towards the doorbell but millimeters before, pulled it away. She turned to him. "You're bothering me."

There went that other eyebrow. "I haven't said anything."

"Exactly my point."

"My… silence is bothering you?"

"It's saying a lot."

"So is yours."

She folded her arms and glared at him, but it only made him smile in that familiar, almost leering way. He leaned towards her. "Ring the doorbell, Swan."

"Yeah, ring the doorbell, Swan!" Lizzie repeated.

"I was going to."

Hook smirked. "Go on, then."

"I am. I'm doing it."

"Are you?"

Huffing out a sigh, she turned back to the door. She brought her fingertip to it again, trying to ignore the way her heart beat faster than usual. She tried to keep her hand steady as she pressed the little plastic button, but she still had to wipe her palms on her leggings.

"I'm right with you," he whispered into her ear.

She jumped. She hadn't expected him to be so close. She turned to scold him but before she could get a word out, the door opened and Emma was once again stricken with the sight of Henry. She had almost expected him to be that little eleven year old boy she left in the past, but he was just as grown up as the last time she saw him. And he looked so handsome, all clean shaven and square jaw.

She opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Henry," Killian greeted and immediately the two embraced in a hug.

"It's good to see you, Killian." Henry smiled as he patted him on the back. Like with every exchange between Killian and the rest of the Storybrooke, it shocked her. She wondered if she'd ever get used to that; people treating Killian like a person and not a villain.

"Henry!" Lizzie chimed and jumped up into his arms. He laughed as he pulled her up into a hug.

"Hey kid, what's up?"

"The sky," they both said at the same time and proceeded to giggle. Emma looked between them, confused.

"Inside joke," Hook whispered.

Henry set Lizzie down on her feet and she ran into the house. Without another look back at her parents, she disappeared.

Henry opened his arms. "Mom, how're you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said, as she allowed herself to be enveloped in his arms.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He pulled back. "I know this has gotta be so… strange for you, but it'll be okay. You're gonna love Violet."

She forced a smile. "I'm sure I will."

Violet wasn't the problem. It was the fact that her eleven year-old son wasn't eleven any more but instead, in the middle of starting a life with his girlfriend. A girlfriend, she hadn't even met yet.

She followed Henry into a small albeit cosy house; perfect for two people. The first word that came to mind was clean. There wasn't a speck of dust on the wooden hall table, or the wooden stairs and banister. The paintwork was a creamy-white, reminding her of her own house. No, future Emma's house.

She kept walking, trying to keep her breathing even. The worst was yet to come. How was she supposed to convince Violet that she knew her when she didn't even know herself?

She kept her eyes on the back of Hook's leather jacket. It was stupid but that familiar item of clothing grounded her. No, not just the clothing. The familiarity of him grounded her.

Come on, Emma, she wanted to scream at herself. She had fought a dragon, and she had defeated countless villains in her short time as the S word— this shouldn't have scared her so.

But it did. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would rather have had another go at the dragon than meet Henry's girlfriend. Judging by the fact that they had just moved in, it was serious. Wasn't it Mary Margaret who stated that she might be hearing wedding bells soon?

But… he was only eleven. She still had to witness his teen years and high school and graduation for crying out loud. And now he was on the cusp of getting married? It made her feel a little sick when she thought about it, which she'd tried not to do. Up until this very moment.

Henry led them into a bright kitchen. Emma heard the sound of laughter and chatter wafting from the room, and it just made her feel even sicker. It wasn't only Violet she'd have to face, but her own parents.

But when Emma entered the room, she hardly even noticed her parents. Her eyes fell on a beautiful young woman, with long, dark hair and bright, friendly eyes. That must have been Violet. They locked eyes from across the room and Violet's face fell into a grin.

"Emma," she said with a smile and crossed the room. She opened her arms, almost to embrace her, but like some invisible force stopped her, she dropped them. "Oh, no, wait. You don't know me, do you? Henry explained," she added, and thrust a hand forward.

Emma shook her hand, surprised by the formality. She couldn't remember the last time she'd shook hands with someone. "It's nice to meet you."

"I'd say the same, but I've already met you. Years ago, actually. Wow, this is weird."

"You're telling me…" Emma muttered, withdrawing her hand. She was unable to take her eyes off Violet and for a moment, she just stared at her. That was until Henry cleared his throat and clapped his hands together.

"Drinks, anyone?"

Henry popped the cork on the bottle of champagne, to which Hook replied, "Don't mind if I do." Everyone laughed.

It was then that Emma noticed there were other people in the room; Regina, for one, and her parents, with Archie and Neal, who was chatting away to Lizzie. She caught sight of their sad expressions from across the kitchen. Mary Margaret opened her mouth to speak but Emma turned away from her, disappearing into the living room.

Hook followed her.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No." She kept her voice soft. "I mean, Violet seems lovely but she's shattering my view of Henry, y'know?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

She drew her lips in between her teeth. "No… Just… weird." Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "Just as long as they don't announce a baby or something, I'm good."

He laughed. "I think that's off the table."

They sat in the living room. Like the rest of the house, it had a cosy feel. The walls were mainly white again, but with one chocolate brown wall that matched mocha sofas. They were so comfy, Emma could sink in them. In fact, she very much felt like curling up and going to sleep. Maybe then she could sleep away this nightmare.

No one joined them for a few moments. It gave Emma time to collect her thoughts. Hook didn't say anything, which she appreciated. He may have been annoyingly impulsive and intrusive at times, but he seemed to sense when she needed silence. Perhaps it was something that came with a long-term marriage. Perhaps he just knew her.

Violet carried their drinks in; champagne for both of them, complete with a strawberry on the top of each glass. Classy, Emma thought, as she accepted it.

"Perfect, love," Killian said with a grin as he accepted his own glass.

Emma noticed that Violet seemed to colour a little at his words, and she wondered why. That was when she realised; Hook had managed to charm her, just as he seemed to have charmed everyone else.

"How are you doing, Emma?" Violet asked.

"A lot better now that I have alcohol."

All three of them laughed and Emma felt it; the ice breaking. She felt her chest untighten a little, as she leaned back against the sofa cushions, and sipped on her champagne. "So what are we celebrating?"

"This isn't a celebration," Hook said, nodding to Violet. "Violet here doesn't have a glass. For it to be a celebration, everyone must have champagne."

Violet looked away from him, averting her eyes to the carpet. She moved her hair behind her ear and met their eyes again. "I'm not really a fan of it, to be honest."

"I'll have yours, then," Killian said.

Violet and Killian laughed again and Emma watched them, frowning. "Thought you were a rum person?" She had never seen him drink anything but rum.

"If it has alcohol in it, Killian will drink it."

"Don't I know it." And he proceeded to swallow half his champagne in one go.

Silence crept up on them again. Emma searched for the words in her mind, but came up blank. She wasn't sure what to say. Anything she did say, would probably be repeating herself. She couldn't ask Violet about herself; they'd probably had conversations like that hundreds of times. She didn't want to comment on how lovely their house was; it wasn't the first time she'd been in there.

She opted for something safer.

"What's for dinner?"

"Henry's cooking spaghetti."

The words fell out of Emma's mouth before she could stop herself. "Henry cooks?"

"Henry's a great cook. It's probably a good thing, since I'm terrible."

"It's true," Hook said. "I had his spaghetti bolognese once. Best bolognese I'd ever tasted. Apart from your ravioli," he added to Emma with a cheeky grin. "Though that is your mother's recipe."

"Speaking of Henry, I should probably go and give him a hand. Give me a shout if you want more champagne." She rose from her seat, brushing down her dress. She was still smiling as she left the room.

They weren't alone long. It was mere seconds before Mary Margaret came shuffling into the room, her head bowed slightly, a sheepish expression on her face. Emma felt her insides curl with guilt at the look, but she tried to keep her face hard. It was almost impossible when Mary Margaret fixed her big, brown eyes on Emma.

"What do you want?" Her tone was hostile.

Killian placed a hand on her arm and surprisingly, she knew what it meant. Be gentle.

"I think we should… talk." Her eyes flickered to Killian and he cleared his throat, rising from his seat. Emma dragged him back down again.

"Oh no. If we're talking, he stays."

Once again, she was surprised. This time, at herself. Since when had she been so comfortable with Killian to do that? A few weeks ago she couldn't even look him in the eyes properly without a flicker of revulsion.

"You wanna talk," Emma said. "So talk."

Mary Margaret hesitated. She looked between Emma and Killian, but then she must have realised she didn't have a choice. So she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she began. Emma opened her mouth to argue. "I should have realised. I sensed something was off, honestly I did, but I was too blind to see it. I was kind of hoping we'd had our fill of problems, you know?" She managed a small smile.

"So that's what you saw me as? A problem?"

"No!" Her eyes widened. "No. Of course not, Emma. You're my daughter; I love you. I just mean—" she sighed. "If what you were saying was true, then we'd have all these problems wrapped up into one. We'd have to find out why you're here, how you got here and how we can send you back. I just— I kind of— I don't know." She hung her head. "I'm ashamed."

Emma felt another curl of guilt. Her mother looked so pathetic, so sad with her head hung. "Look…" she began, folding her arms, rubbing at the goosebumps there. She was going to argue more, but another look at Mary Margaret's hung head made her change her mind. "Look, it doesn't matter."

"Yes. It does." She rose her head, eyes startlingly filled with tears. "We should have believed you. We should have trusted you, but we didn't."

Emma's eyes were wide with surprise. "It was kinda… crazy."

"And what isn't in this town?"

"Good point." Killian murmured.

"Please forgive me," Mary Margaret said. She crossed the room and took a seat on one of the other sofas. "Please. I can't bear the thought of arguing with you. Let me make it up to you."

"Just give me… time."

She nodded. "Time. I can do that. I can give you that."

"But Mary Margaret?"

She looked up.

"Don't expect me to trust you. Not for a while, at least."


They were just dishing up dinner when the doorbell rang. Everything looked and smelled delicious. Violet proudly announced that she'd prepared the salad (a bowl of lettuce on the table) and everyone laughed. Emma sat next to Killian, which provided her the perfect opportunity to cast suspicious glances at Regina. She didn't quite trust her yet, either.

Lizzie was sat on her other side, chatting to Neal about school.

That was when the doorbell rang and everyone looked at each other.

"Probably Zelena," Regina said, looking over at Henry. "She texted me to tell everyone that she was going to be a little late."

"Right," he said. "I'll get it." He stood up and disappeared through the door.

Zelena. That was the wicked witch, right? God, it was hard to keep track of everything.

Henry returned seconds later, followed by Zelena herself, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. Emma noticed that she looked just as glamorous as she had before. Her long, red hair was curled, her eyes were dusted with make-up.

"Nice to see you waited for me," she commented, her eyes scouring the food on the table.

"Your timing was perfect," Henry said as he pulled out a chair for her. She threw him a smile as she settled into her seat.

"Glad to see you could make it," Regina said with a slow smile.

Zelena settled in her seat and everyone began dishing up at once. "Wouldn't miss it."

That was when the talking started— and didn't stop. Emma couldn't help but feel surprised. There were people in this room that she thought would not, in a million years, get on. Her dad and Hook being an example. But David seemed to have made a point of sitting next to Killian on purpose. Mary Margaret had gone for his side, but David had stopped her with a, "The pirate's next to me."

But the most baffling thing was Mary Margaret and Regina who sat close to each other, speaking about Archie.

"And he's sleeping so well," Mary Margaret was saying, as she cut into her roast beef. "Really beautifully. We had so much trouble with Neal as a baby—"

"Hey!" Neal piqued up.

"- just sleeping. It seemed to take him ages to get off but Archie falls asleep before his head hits the pillow."

"Have you tried chamomile in his milk?" Regina asked, taking a sip of her wine. "I find it soothes."

"I'll have to try that one."

It was remarkable that they could hold a friendly conversation after everything that had happened between them.

Nothing was said on Emma's situation, not with Lizzie in the room, but she could see Henry, Regina and Mary Margaret throwing her looks out the corner of her eye.

But at least it wasn't a tension filled silence. And she could manage to look at her parents without wanting to throw something at them, so that was a start.

It was towards the end of the meal that things started to take a turn. Emma began to notice how silent Henry and Violet had gone. As she watched them closely, she noticed that they threw little looks back and forth between them. At one point Henry even took Violet's hand. Then they shared a look that Emma had to look away from.

Eventually, after another round of drinks, Henry cleared his throat. The chatter died out almost instantly and everyone turned to him.

"This has been a great night, hasn't it?" he began, somewhat awkwardly. Emma was glad to see that some part of his youth still remained.

"There's actually more than one reason why we invited you round." He shared another look with Violet and they smiled shyly at each other. "We have an announcement to make."

Emma's eyes flew to Violet's left hand. No ring.

Everyone's eyes were on them. Henry swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down. He cast another nervous look to Violet. The silence seemed to stretch on. And then:

"Well…" He gave a smile and a shrug. "We're expecting."

"What?" Emma said but her words were drowned out by a chorus of congratulations. Regina was the first to reach them, hugging Henry and then Violet, who seemed to be turning bright red.

"That's amazing news, you two," Mary Margaret said. She pulled Violet into a big hug.

David clapped him on the back with a, "Congratulations, guys."

Emma, whose mouth had turned dry, turned to Killian, wondering if he was as shocked as she. But he was grinning up at Henry and Violet, light in his eyes. He must have felt her eyes on him because he turned to her. His face immediately dropped into one of concern.

"You alright?"

She nodded mutely, but she couldn't compute how her son, Henry, her eleven year old boy was suddenly grown up and expecting a child with this… woman she barely knew. It was too weird for her. Her head was so full she hardly realised that everyone was looking at her.

"Mom?" Henry asked.

She rearranged her face to a smile. "Congratulations. That's amazing."

Henry breathed out a sigh of relief. He threw an arm around Violet's shoulders and pulled her to him, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"Thanks everyone," Violet breathed, grinning, still blushing. "Anyway, we should dish up desert. Henry's made Apple crumble. It's in the oven."

She left the room, her face glowing like a fire. Through her haze of shock, Emma got the impression that she wasn't quite enjoying her time in the limelight, as happy as she was.

Henry, still grinning, took a swing from his wine glass.

"How far along is she?" Mary Margaret asked, her eyes glowing with light.

"About twelve weeks," Henry said. "She's known for a while but we wanted to be sure before we told you, y'know. We had our first scan the other day. It was amazing."

"Aye, it always is. Nerve wracking though. I remember when Emma and I had our first scan. I was shaking so much I could hardly stand. Do you remember…" But he trailed off because no, she did not. Killian cleared his throat. "Nevermind."

There was an awkward silence.

It was Zelena who broke it.

"So when's the next pirate sprog coming along?" she demanded.

Emma tried not to choke on her drink.

Everyone glared at Zelena, but she just shrugged, uncaring, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

"Zelena," Regina hissed.

Zelena gave another shrug. "What?" Then she threw them a dark smile. "You're going to have to start getting it on soon, you know. What if you're stuck here forever?"

"She won't be," Hook said, conviction in his voice. He wasn't looking at Emma, his hand closing around his wine glass.

But Zelena's comment stayed with Emma the rest of the way home, even as Lizzie turned to them and asked what Henry and Violet were expecting.

What if you're stuck here forever.


Hey guys, sorry it took so long! I think one of the main reasons I've not been feeling this is because I wrote Strange Places before season 7 and now I know the future is completely different to how I imagined it. But I forgot how much I loved this fic so expect more updates! Thank you for reading - let me know what you think :)